


Rewriting Destiny

by CelestialVoid



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Finds Out About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon Saves the Day (Merlin), Blood and Injury, Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Jealous Arthur, Jealousy, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic Revealed, Major Character Injury, Merlin Saves Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Oblivious Merlin (Merlin), One Shot, Original Character(s), Pining, Pining Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24657871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: A stranger comes to Camelot and Merlin finds himself curiously drawn to the young man, however Arthur is not as welcoming.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 467





	Rewriting Destiny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [erkel01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/erkel01/gifts).



Merlin shivered as the chill of the cool autumn air as a breeze rolled through the dense trees, pulling his jacket tight and adjusting his scarf to better cover his neck.

He dragged his feet through the dew-dampened grass as he wandered down the muddy tracks that were worn into the forest floor.

He shrugged the strap of his satchel further up onto his shoulder and dug into the bag, looking for the list of herbs Gaius had sent him to gather.

He made his way through the undergrowth, tracking his way along the familiar paths and collecting the medicinal herbs and plants on the list—chamomile, ginseng root, sage, milk thistle, dandelions and Echinacea.

He moved about the undergrowth, gathering the plants.

There was a rustle among the trees.

Merlin straightened, bolting upright. His bright eyes scanned the shadows of the trees.

“Who’s there?” he called out, but the only reply he got was the rustling of branches and the twitter of birds. “Gwaine, if that’s you, this isn’t funny. I thought you learnt your lesson after the last time you tried to pull a trick on me.”

He felt a swell of power grow within him, ready to protect himself.

A figure stepped into the clearing.

The young man had tanned skin and long blonde hair that was pulled back and tied up with a piece of cloth. His chin was shadowed by the scruff of a beard and his dark brown eyes looked about the clearing before falling on Merlin, his hand tightening on the strap of his bag as he shrugged it further up onto his shoulder.

“I don’t know who Gwaine is,” the man said. “But I swear I’m not playing a trick on you.”

“What are you doing here?” Merlin asked. “Not many people come to this part of the woods.”

“I think I got turned around,” the man said, looking around. “I was heading to Camelot but I think I took a wrong turn somewhere.”

Merlin let out a quiet chuckle. “Let me just finish collecting a few things and then I’ll show you the way.”

“Thanks.”

“You really ought to be careful, there are bandits in these parts of the woods,” Merlin told him.

“I appreciate the warning,” the man replied. “I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“I’m Merlin, by the way,” he introduced himself, dusting off the dirt that clung to his hand before holding it out to the man.

“Eymund,” he replied, shaking Merlin’s hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Merlin said.

He finished collecting the medicinal herbs, stowing them away in his satchel before leading the way back through the undergrowth and towards Camelot.

Heads turned to watch as the young man made his way up through the markets, passing the small fruit stalls, stands with bundles of cloth and tailored clothes, and merchants. A few gazes turned his way, a buzz of chatter following after him as he wove his way through the crowded streets.

“So, what are you doing in Camelot?” Merlin asked, stopping to drop off a bottle of medicine to one of the shop keepers before continuing on through the crowded marketplace.

“Just passing through,” Eymund answered.

“How long are you staying?”

“A few days,” Eymund replied. “I’ve been travelling so long, it might be nice to sleep on an actual bed.”

Merlin chuckled.

“Besides,” Eymund said, his voice quieting slightly, “there’s a few things I need to get in order.”

Merlin nodded thoughtfully.

He opened his mouth to say something when a familiar voice rang out across the market place, interrupting him.

“Merlin!”

He turned, looking to where a man dressed in a faded grey shirt and an old brown leather jacket wove his way through the crowd. His long brown hair was a tousled mess and his jaw was shadowed by an unshaved beard. He pushed his hair back from his face, flashing a bright smile as he looked at Merlin.

“There you are,” he said, a hint of relief in his voice. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”

Merlin was about to ask what he meant by ‘we’ when he looked over Gwaine’s shoulder to see Percival and Elyan making their way through the crowded street.

“I had to run errands for Gaius,” Merlin explained, looking back at Gwaine, but the knight’s eyes were focused on Eymund, his brow furrowed slightly with confusion—as if he were trying to remember something.

“Arthur’s looking for you,” Elyan told Merlin.

Merlin nodded. He turned to Eymund, offering him a friendly smile. “I’m sorry.”

Eymund returned the smile. “It’s alright. I’ll see you around.”

“See you,” Merlin farewelled.

Merlin crossed the town square, stopping before where Eymund sat at the foot of a flight of stairs.

In the few days Eymund had been in town, he and Merlin had spent a lot of time together—talking, mostly.

It was just nice to spend time with someone who wasn’t giving him orders or talking about his destiny; it was nice to be normal for a bit.

Merlin sat down next to Eymund, talking quietly as they watched people go about their day.

“I made something for you,” Eymund said after a little while, reaching over to where the whittled animals he had made sat on the stone step beside him.

He picked up one of them, handing it to Merlin.

It was a stag carved from a piece of pine. It was detailed and delicate, from the curve of its ears and the shape of its nose to the fragile outstretched antlers and upturned tail. There were small notches sliced into the wood to give the creature eyes and scratches along the body that added to the swirls of grain in order to give the illusion of fur.

“It’s beautiful” Merlin said, mesmerised.

“A deer symbolises intuition, vigilance, and caution, but they also symbolise mystery, power, protectiveness and grace,” Eymund said. His dark eyes flicked up to meet Merlin’s. “Much like you.”

“Intuition, vigilance and caution, maybe,” Merlin replied, “but grace? I know a few people who would disagree with that.”

“Then again, I’ve seen more than a few deer stumble over their own feet,” Eymund said with a low chuckle.

“Then, I guess, it’s accurate,” Merlin laughed, a bright smile lighting up his face.

He looked down at the whittled deer in his hands, his smile softening as he looked at it fondly.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Merlin!” Arthur’s voice rang out across the square, frustration and impatience adding an edge to his voice.

Merlin let out a sigh and rose to his feet. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later.”

“See you later,” Eymund farewelled, offering Merlin a friendly smile as he watched the young man walk away.

That afternoon, after training, Arthur stood by the window, his face set in a scowl as he looked down over the town square. His bright eyes were focused on the young man who sat on the far side of the square, leaning back against one of the pillars as he whittled away at a piece of wood.

"I don't think you should be spending so much time with him," Arthur said.

“Who?” Merlin asked, setting down the armour chest piece he had been polishing.

“That Eymund guy,” Arthur replied, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

"Why not?" Merlin asked.

"You don't even know the guy," Arthur argued.

"And how am I meant to get to know him if I don't spend time with him?”

Arthur didn’t reply.

“He's a nice guy,” Merlin said. “Besides, since when do you concern yourself with who I spend time with?"

"I don't want you to get hurt, is all," Arthur admitted.

"Just because you don't like people—"

"I like people," Arthur objected.

"Oh, yeah?" Merlin said. "Name one person you like."

 _You_ , Arthur thought.

The word caught in his throat; he wanted nothing more than to say it, but he couldn’t. So, instead, he said nothing.

Merlin raised his brow questioningly.

Arthur bit his tongue, drawing in a measured breath as he tried to ignore the way his heart ached.

"Yeah,” Merin said smugly. “That's what I thought."

Dawn broke over the castle, the dim light growing brighter as the sun crested the horizon.

Gwaine and Percival walked ahead through the streets, tearing apart and devouring the sweet roll they’d stolen from the palace kitchens.

“One day you two are going to get caught,” Elyan lectured them.

Percival let out a low chuckle, but Gwaine didn’t reply; he was lost in thought.

“Okay, seriously, what’s wrong with you?” Elyan asked turning to face Gwaine. “You haven’t been yourself for days. You’ve been disturbingly quiet—and I never thought I’d say it but I miss you talking. You didn’t even make one remark when Leon fell over in training yesterday.”

Gwaine didn’t rely. He didn’t even acknowledge that he’d heard what Elyan had said.

“Are you sick?” Elyan asked. “Do we need to take you to see Gaius?”

Gwaine’s feet slowed to a stop, his body stiffening. His eyes widened with fear as realisation crashed over him like a wave, knocking the air from his lungs.

Elyan and Percival stopped, turning to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” Elyan asked, his voice hitching with worry as he looked at the expression on Gwaine’s face.

“Oh no,” Gwaine uttered.

Without another word, he turned, digging his feet into the cobblestones as he took off running. He sprinted into the castle, ignoring Percival and Elyan as they shouted after him.

He ran up the stairs and sprinted down the hallways.

He threw open the doors to Arthur’s chambers, stumbling into the room. His wide eyes scanned the room.

He wasn’t there.

“What is going on?” Arthur asked, standing up from behind his desk.

“Where’s Merlin?” Gwaine asked, panicked.

“With Gaius, I assume,” Arthur answered. “Why?”

Gwaine didn’t answer. He turned and took off running again. Arthur grabbed his jacket, pulling it on as he stepped out into the hallway.

Elyan and Percival were in the hallway, exchanging confused looks as Gwaine sprinted back down the hallway.

Arthur opened his mouth to ask them what was going on but they both looked at him with confusion and shrugged.

Arthur chased after Gwaine, Elyan and Percival following after him.

Gwaine burst into the physician’s quarters.

Gaius jumped, letting out a startled cry and knocking over a tankard of water.

“Is Merlin here?” Gwaine asked, his shoulders rising and falling as he heaved in heavy breaths.

“No,” Gaius answered. “He left with Eymund about an hour ago.”

“Damnit,” Gwaine cursed.

Arthur, Percival and Elyan stumbled through the doorway.

“What is going on?” Gaius asked, looking at the four of them with a look of shock and confusion.

“I don’t know,” Arthur replied.

“I knew I recognised his face,” Gwaine rambled, lost in his thoughts. Frustration added an edge to his voice, but his anger was directed at himself. “How did I not realise it sooner?”

“Gwaine,” Percival said firmly, pulling the man’s attention back to reality.

“What are you talking about?” Arthur asked.

“Merlin’s in trouble.”

The dry husks of leaves crackled beneath the soles of their shoes, the rich smell of sweet petrichor filling their lungs as they walked along the muddy trail, away from the grassy knolls and castle gates and further into the woods.

The tall trees towered over them, thin beams of wavering light shining through the canopy and dancing across the forest floor. The leaves were beginning to change, a few trees were turning golden or auburn as the autumn chill hung in the air.

Crystal-like droplets of dew gathered on the wavering blades of grass and delicate flowers grew along the edge of the path, filling the undergrowth with bursts of colour: white, purple, orange, yellow, and blue.

Merlin ducked under the low hanging branches, brushing aside the spindly limbs that reached out for him.

“Where are we going?” he asked, looking around at the dark shadows that lingered among the undergrowth.

“To make change,” Eymund replied.

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

Merlin followed him regardless.

They came to a small clearing.

Eymund slowed to a stop, his back turned to Merlin.

Merlin turned about in circles, looking at the trees that surrounded him. “What are we doing here?”

“Do you believe in destiny?” Eymund asked.

“I guess,” Merlin replied half-heartedly. “Why?”

“Do you believe destiny can be changed?”

“What are you talking about?” Merlin asked.

“Arthur is destined to be the Once and Future King,” Eymund said. “But if he were to die, Camelot will fall without its king and magic will rule again. The only thing stoping that from happening, the only thing protecting Arthur, is you—”

He turned to face Merlin, the collar of his shirt falling open enough to reveal the black lines of a spiralling triskellion that was tattooed onto his chest.

Merlin blinked in surprise.

He was a druid.

Eymund’s eyes darkening with rage. “—Emrys.”

The name sent a chill down Merlin’s spine, his eyes widening as ice flooded his veins.

In one swift movement, Eymund drew a dagger from where it was sheathed in the small of his back and lunged at Merlin.

Merlin dove to the side.

Eymund swung again.

Merlin ducked under his arm, turning into his body and slamming his elbow into Eymund’s chest.

The man let out a choked breath, staggering back slightly as Merlin stepped out of his reach.

Maybe all those years of training and sparring with Arthur had actually paid off.

Eymund regained his footing, his shoulders rising and falling with ragged breaths. He was livid, snarling s he glared at Merlin.

“Without you to protect him, Arthur will die and magic will return,” Eymund said. “I thought you would understand. Sacrifices must be made.”

He lunged at Merlin again.

Merlin dove aside and rolled across the forest floor as he narrowly avoided another blow, muttering under his breath, “Easy for you to say if you’re not the one being sacrificed.”

Merlin rose to his feet, his eyes focused on Eymund. He felt a swell of power grow within him, his eyes glowing gold as his magic soared through his veins.

Eymund charged at him.

“Merlin!”

He felt something crash into him, knocking him aside.

There was the sickening sound of a blade tearing through flesh and a strangled gasp of pain.

Merlin hit the ground with a painful thud. He felt a stab of fear pierce his heart as he turned around, the glow from his eyes fading as he watched the other man collapse back against the trunk of a nearby tree. The front of his shirt was stained red, streams of blood gushing from the wound.

His heart sank into his stomach, his stomach twisting and a wave of bile rising into his throat. He swallowed hard.

“Arthur,” he gasped breathlessly.

Eymund stumbled back, the dagger still in his hands, the blade now slick with blood.

Arthur weakly reached for where he had dropped his sword.

A wicked smile turned up the corner of the man’s lips as he looked down at Arthur. “Or I could just cut out the middle man and eliminate you myself.”

“No!” Merlin shouted.

His eyes lit up with a golden glow as he held out his hand, sending Eymund flying.

Eymund struck a tree, letting out a cry of pain. The dagger fell from his hand and his hit the ground with a heavy _thud_.

Merlin watched him for a second before pushing himself to his feet and running over to Arthur’s side.

“What were you doing out here?”

“Saving you,” Arthur said.

“I suppose you’ll want to say ‘I told you so’,” Merlin muttered.

“I don’t have to,” Arthur replied.

“How did you find me?” Merlin asked.

“Gwaine knew him,” Arthur told him, his words broken as he gasped in pain. “They crossed paths back when Gwaine first came to Camelot. He knew he was a druid and he thought you were in trouble. I came looking for you.”

Arthur tensed, drawing in another sharp breath.

“Hold still,” Merlin said as he carefully rolled up the hem of Arthur’s blood-soaked shirt, looking at the gash that was torn across his stomach.

He felt his stomach twist nauseatingly, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

Smears of blood covered his tan skin, the bitter metallic smell burning at Merlin’s nose and making his stomach churn.

He swallowed hard, his hands shaking slightly as he ran the tips of his fingers across Arthur’s skin.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Arthur lied.

Merlin didn’t respond. He held his hand over the wound, his eyes lighting up with a golden glow as his power soared through him.

He watched as the flesh stitched itself together, the wound healing itself.

He slowly sat back, his eyes fading back to their natural hue.

“You have magic?” Arthur asked, stunned.

“I was born with it,” Merlin admitted, his voice quiet and his eyes focused on the ground, unable to look Arthur in the eye.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Merlin looked up, levelling him with a look.

“Oh, right,” Arthur said quietly.

Merlin dropped his gaze again.

“You need rest,” He said as he sat down, leaning back against the trunk of a nearby tree.

A heavy silence settled between the two of them.

“What are you thinking?” Arthur asked after a while, studying Merlin’s thoughtful expression.

“If I go back to Camelot, I’ll be executed,” Merlin said quietly. “But I have nowhere else to go. If I run, you’ll only find me; I’ll only be delaying the inevitable.”

“Come back to Camelot,” Arthur pleaded.

“I can’t,” Merlin replied.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Arthur said.

“You have a duty as the future king to uphold the law.”

“I will not let them kill you!” Arthur shouted.

Merlin looked at him, shocked.

“Why not?” he asked, struggling to find his voice. “I’m just a servant boy.”

Arthur shook his head, glistening tears welling in his eyes. “No, you’re not. You’re more than that. You’re so much more than that.”

Arthur let out a sigh.

“Merlin, you’re my friend,” he said quietly, dropping his gaze to the blanket of leaves that covered the forest floor. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that there are times I wish you were so much more than that.”

Merlin didn’t say anything.

“The way I feel about you…” Arthur continued, struggling to string his thoughts together with words. “…I’ve never felt that way about anyone before.”

Arthur lifted his gaze, his cobalt blue eyes full of emotion as he looked at Merlin.

“It’s always been you,” Arthur said. “It’s only ever been you.”

Merlin was stunned. All he could manage to say was, “I never knew you felt that way.”

“I never knew how to say it,” Arthur admitted.

Merlin opened his mouth to say something, but his words fell short of his lips when Arthur winced, drawing in a sharp breath between his gritted teeth.

Something was wrong; the wound had healed but Arthur was still in pain.

Merlin pulled himself over to Arthur’s side. He lifted up the blood stained shirt.

The skin around the wound was marred by black lines that radiated outwards like shattered glass.

“We have to get you back to Camelot,” Merlin said.

There was a rustle among the trees.

Merlin grabbed Arthur’s sword, leaping to his feet and bracing himself. His eyes darted about the shadows, listening as the snapping of branches and rustling leaves drew closer.

He swallowed hard, tightening his grip on the sword until the skin stretched over his knuckles turned white.

A figure burst through the foliage, riding atop a white stead.

They pulled hard on the reins, pulling the horse up short and breathing out a sigh of relief.

“You do not know how relieved I am to see you two,” Lancelot said.

“Arthur’s hurt,” Merlin said, not wasting any time. “I need you to get him to Gaius.”

Lancelot dismounted his stead, rushing over to Arthur’s side.

Beads of sweat dampened Arthur’s brow, strands of blonde hair clinging to his flushed skin.

“He’s been poisoned,” Merlin explained. “I’d treat it myself but I don’t have what I need.”

“I’ll take him to Gaius. Help me get him on the horse,” Lancelot said.

“I won’t leave you out here on your own,” Arthur objected.

“Arthur, we don’t have time to argue about this,” Merlin said, lifting Arthur’s arm over his shoulders and hoisting the prince to his feet. “You need help, otherwise you’ll die.”

Lancelot helped him lift Arthur onto the horse, watching as he swayed weakly and struggled to stay upright in the saddle. Lancelot climbed up behind him, holding one hand around Arthur’s waist to steady him.

“Take him straight to Gaius.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Arthur said, his sharp glare softening as he looked at Merlin pleadingly.

“When you two are done bickering,” Lancelot interrupted. He lifted his fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle.

A few moments later, there was a rush of noise—the crack of branches and the sound of hooves pounding the damp earth. The rest of the knights rode into the small clearing.

Leon slowed his horse beside Merlin, holding his hand out to the young man. “Need a ride?”

Merlin smiled up at him. He took his hand, letting Leon pull him up onto his horse.

The horses’ hooves thundered against the earth as they rode back to Camelot.

The light had begun to fade, the dusk sky lit with vibrant colours. The streets were quiet, the only noise coming from the few people who were securing their animals or the raucous laughter that filtered out of the tavern.

Arthur’s condition had stabilised. He was still weak from blood loss and he needed rest.

Merlin held Arthur’s arm over his shoulder, steadying the young prince on his feet as he helped him walk slowly up the stairs that lead to Merlin’s chambers.

He walked him over to the bed, pulling back the sheets and lowering Arthur onto the bed.

The bed wasn’t as large or as soft as Arthur’s bed, but he was in no condition to walk back to his room.

Merlin pulled the blankets up over the young man’s shoulders, watching as he settled among the soft sheets.

Arthur’s heavy eyelids fell shut as he let out a deep sigh.

Merlin couldn’t help but smile as he watched Arthur for a moment. But the smile was short-lived, falling from his face as he rose to his feet and turned to leave.

He felt something grab his hand, turning to see Arthur’s hand weakly holding onto his wrist.

“Stay,” Arthur rasped.

“Is that an order?” Merlin asked, his voice softened by his teasing tone.

Arthur opened his eyes slightly, the bright blue depths of his eyes weary and unfocused as he looked at Merlin.

“Merlin, stay with me,” he pleaded.

A small smile turned up the corners of Merlin’s lips. He stepped back over to the bed and sat down on the floor, leaning against the mattress. He reached up, taking Arthur’s hand in his own and whispering, “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


End file.
